Brown Study Extras
by littlesecret84
Summary: What is Edward thinking? What's up with Jane? Why did littlesecret84 refuse to send me their texts? All the answers to these annoying questions can be found here.
1. Edward talks a lot

**Okay. So these are all of the EPOVs I sent out in review replies, as well as one I wrote in December and posted under Santa's Little Ficsters, and a little addendum to the Haiti piece I did back in January ("Chinese Food in Forks" and "Edward texts Bella for the First Time"). I hope you enjoy them. Thanks so much for reading.**

**I don't own Twilight.**

**Chinese food in Forks**

Chinese food in Forks sucks, much like everything else in this Podunk town.

I'm supposed to be eating chicken, but it tastes like cardboard. I'm tempted to reach out and grab the steamed vegetables the brunette is eating, but she looks like she's enjoying them. Fucking girls. They know that shit sucks, but they'll eat it anyway.

What was her name? Bella? I'm fairly certain that this is the same girl who asked me for a pen or something this morning. I didn't really get a good look at her face- just her ass as she walked out of the classroom. Guess I can only be sure it's the same girl if she gets up and walks around. Preferably with her back turned to me so I can get a look at her ass.

I haven't seen too many fine asses or cute faces here. I think I hit the jackpot when Jasper asked me to come over for dinner. His sister is hot. His sister's friend is hot. The girl we ran into at the Chinese takeout place was hot. None of them are as hot as the girl from my music class, but she's not my type. No sense of humor. No tits. Long legs, though. Really long legs.

If this is the same girl from this morning—I should start sleeping more than three hours a night and stop smoking before class—she has long legs too. In fact, I really enjoyed the brief glimpse I got of her legs when I walked in with the food. Legs and whatever the fuck she's wearing under the skirt. Purple. Nice.

Come to think of it, I really shouldn't be complaining about anything. The food is disgusting, and right now I'd do anything for some pork buns from Chinatown, but I'm surrounded by hot girls, one of whom is pretty funny, if not a little scary.

Wait, is Jasper talking to me?

"… They got their bellybuttons pierced over the summer. I haven't seen Swan's yet."

Swan. That's right. Bella Swan.

I laugh at myself for thinking that this Jasper character was gay. It's just that I kind of got that vibe from him when he came up and started talking to me during practice. I've dealt with that before. It took months to get Jake to understand that a) I'm into chicks, b) if I wanted to have a guy blow me, it certainly wouldn't be him. The motherfucker had braces. Anyway, Jasper is into girls. He talked about his sister's best friend's tits for half the car ride over to his place. I'm guessing he was talking about Bella Swan's tits. I can't tell if they're anything special under that t-shirt, but I'll take his word for it.

Am I staring at her chest? Shit. Her friend noticed.

"Now who's being a perv? Look, you're making Edward uncomfortable," Bella says. "See how he's avoiding the whole conversation?"

"Stop playing hard to get, Bella. Your ass is hanging out of your skirt and all of a sudden you're modest?" Heh, good point.

"I'm not playing hard to get with anyone, unless _you're_ trying to get _me_, in which case you should know that I'm definitely not interested. Stare at Jane's, I think hers is cuter anyway," she says.

I'm sure you do. Jane is all kinds of adorable. It would probably be inappropriate to ask them both to show me their piercings.

"I'm not looking at Jane's," Jasper replies. "I've seen it, and she's my sister. Let's put this to a vote. Everyone at this table—Jane, this means you stay out of this—gets to vote. I vote you take off your shirt. Edward?"

Say what? I'm not participating in this nonsense. She wants to take off her top, let her take off her top. My mom raised me better than to vote on whether or not someone should expose herself like that.

"Pass."

"Ooooh, BURN, Swan. He doesn't want you to take your shirt off. He just said 'pass'!"

What a fucking douchebag. Way to make the girl feel bad, asshole. You pretty much suck for putting me in this position, because of course I want her to take her top off, and now she thinks that's something I don't want.

"Whatever, his loss," she says, shrugging her shoulder. She doesn't appear to be too sensitive. That's a good thing in a girl. Chelsea would have been in tears by now. I turn my attention to Jasper, who is talking about the party again, but notice his sister staring at me. Bella is standing next to her, her back turned, confirming that she's the girl from my English class. Jane tells her something, looking at me the entire time. I want to know what she said. But Bella Swan just takes her stuff and walks towards the door.

Jasper gets up and tries to stop her.

"Wait, Bella, don't leave. I've gotta drop Edward off, too. I'll take both of you guys later."

I put down my fork and tell Jasper that I should be heading home myself. Instead of agreeing to driving us home, he brings up the piercing again. He tells me to close my eyes if I don't want to see. Of course I want to see. Bella has her back to me, and I watch the way her hand reaches back and scratches her thigh, right under her skirt. I feel a little uncomfortable for a second, like it's just a little warmer in here than it was thirty seconds ago.

"I'll look."

Shit, did I just say that? Like I'm doing her a favor by looking? Can she tell that this is a favor for _me_?

She walks over and her hand is on my shoulder. You know that first time you hold someone's hand? Kiss them? The energy that rushes to the part of you that is being touched? The warmth? The electricity? When she touches me I feel all of that and almost expect her to look at me like they do in the movies. I expect her to say something like "do you feel that too?" But none of that happens. She just lifts up her t-shirt and my eyes go to a small mole to the side of her belly button. Oh, to be that mole and sit there on this girl all day. Or maybe just lick it. Around it. How fucking soft does her skin look? This girl has pretty fingers. Fingers. Her fucking fingers are beautiful. She flicks the small green stone hanging from her piercing. I can't stop staring. The incredible urge to just grab her and lick every exposed inch of her stomach drives me crazy. Before I know it, the t-shirt drops down like a curtain of evil. It's like I'm being denied a whole new world, and it sucks. So this is what it's like to have your mind blown by a girl. Not cool, Bella Swan. I think it's pretty unfair that you're funny, and hot, and can make me think about licking you without trying at all.

"You can tell Jasper what you think, since he's never going to see it," she says.

What I think? I think you smell nice. I think you're really fucking funny, and fuck, your eyes are beautiful. I think your skirt couldn't be any shorter, but it's fucking perfect. I think I am so hard that if you look down you'll see just how hard I am and slap me for being a pervert. I also think that maybe you'd like it, because you don't seem shy. I think I want to see more of you. I think I want to touch you. I think I want to talk to you. I think…

Shit, I have to talk now.

"It's...it's nice."

Before I can hide my erection and come up with something cooler to say, they're gone, and Jasper is laughing and making fun of me. I tell him to shut the fuck up, and change the subject. He talks about some girl he used to date, comparing her to Bella the entire time. Then he tells me I can probably get with Bella, since she's single now. Huh.

We get up to leave when his sister returns with the car. She's a sweet kid, but I don't know how to talk to her because she seems really shy and awkward. Jasper jokes about Jane tucking Bella in and her face is on fire. I wonder what they _did_ do… That would be pretty hot.

Rosalie is as annoying as ever when I get home, asking me where I went and what I did and why I didn't take her with me. I watch _Project Runway_ reruns with her for a few hours, and later, before I fall asleep, I come all over my stomach, thinking about how hot it would be to come all over another stomach. And a mole. And a green stone.

She'd like that.

**Kate's party**

"Who's the guy in the leather jacket?" I ask Kate.

"Oh, that's Riley. He goes to FHS," she explains.

So what's he doing here? I want to ask, but it's none of my business. I just nod and try to pay attention to the story Kate is telling me, but it's hard to focus on anything but the girl who showed me her belly button a few days ago. The soft, sexy, pretty girl who has been ignoring me all week. The girl I can't seem to approach. Or talk to.

I'm glad Kate is here because she's been a good distraction so far, flirting with me and touching me every chance she gets. I came to this party with the sole intention of getting Bella Swan to talk to me, or acknowledge me, and the minute I walked in I found her making out with her best friend. Does this happen often? Are they just friends? Jane's face after that kiss told me they weren't just playing around. So imagine my surprise when Bella walked into the kitchen with some guy, smiling and flirting and letting him touch her in ways I've been fantasizing about since Monday night.

Fuck this.

I stop staring at her face, her flushed cheeks and satisfied smile. Eyes closed, teeth biting her bottom lip, clearly enjoying whatever that douchey motherfucker is doing to her. Instead I focus on Kate and her hand on my arm. Before I know it I'm kissing her, and it's not bad, because her lips are full and her tongue is soft. Who gives a shit about some girl I don't even know slutting it up with half the population of Forks?

Fuck Bella Swan.

Instead of ignoring her, however, I look over to them and the sight of her leaning back, practically panting in his arms, her leg hitched over his thigh, excites me to the point where the girl in my arms notices. And I'm too hard to care about who made me feel like this, so I close my eyes and continue to kiss Kate, hoping that when I open them, Bella and her friend will be gone.

**Edward texts Bella for the first time**

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I just told Kate I'm too busy to hang out with her in her empty house tonight, because I'd rather sit around and stare at a number on my phone. When did I start rejecting hot girls? Especially hot girls who give me hand jobs in their bedrooms during parties.

I close my eyes and try to picture the girl I want to call. Soft, sexy, pretty girl. She's probably busy. Maybe she's out with someone, like that douche in the leather jacket. Or maybe she's showing off her body to strangers who then spend the entire week fantasizing about her, thinking about her, watching her. It's pretty pathetic. I can't even stop thinking about the noises she was making Friday night while she was kissing that guy. It's pretty sick.

I know that if I don't do something tonight, we'll go back to ignoring each other tomorrow morning. Today was a fluke. I didn't realize what I was doing until my thumb was covered in yogurt. And the next thing I know... Fuck, I've got to stop thinking about her mouth. Sitting next to her in class drives me crazy. Her profile as she stares off into space... Ms. Denali was right—it's distracting.

I smile to myself, because I know exactly what I'm going to do. My heart pounding and my hands almost shaking, I start to type out a text.

_I'm feeling bored right now, entertain me again?_

I hit send, and throw my phone onto the couch. If she doesn't know who sent her the text, then I'm just wasting my time. She's probably not worth it.

XxXxX

Waiting for a girl to text you back sucks. Waiting for a girl to text you back when you're sitting in the living room with your annoying cousin, who decides to sit across from you and smirk, sucks harder.

"What?" I ask, trying to keep my eyes off the couch where my phone is sitting.

"Nothing. Why are you so nervous?" She stands up and walks over to me, grabbing the remote from my lap. "You have a date tonight. Go take a shower or something."

"I canceled."

Rose looks surprised as she sits back down on the couch. "Why'd you do that?"

I shrug. I'm not in the mood to explain why.

"Well," she says, "that doesn't explain why you're so nervous."

"I'm not nervous," I snap.

Rose laughs. "Sure. You're not nervous. Your leg is shaking and you keep staring at your phone, but you're not nervous. Tell me the truth, did Kate cancel?"

"No, it was me. I'm just not interested," I explain.

She nods, taking my phone in her hands and giving me an evil smile.

"Something tells me that if I go through your phone, I'll have exciting things to read."

"Rosalie, just fucking hand me my phone. There is nothing exciting for you to read. I guarantee that."

Laughing, she turns on the TV and tosses my phone to me. I look at the screen again. Nothing. It's been about seven minutes since I sent her the text. If she saw it and hasn't responded, she probably never will. If she's playing hard to get, I'm out, because I'm definitely not interested in games. What the fuck am I supposed to do tomorrow morning? Pretend I never sent the text?

"Fine, don't tell me," Rose says. "I'll just guess. It's definitely not someone from back home. Chelsea wouldn't make you this nervous. There are maybe four or five hot girls in the entire school. We know it's not Kate. I don't think it's her tall friend, because you're not into redheads. There's Jane. Bella…"

_Great._

"Bella. Oh, of course! Did you cancel your date with Kate because you made plans with Bella?" I look up at her and she winks. "Not bad, Edward. I like her, and we both know how she stares at you. Smart choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean? Bella totally wants you. It was depressing sitting next to her in class, watching her drool over the sight of your neck." Rose laughs.

I try to suppress a smile and fail.

"Awww! You're too cute! So, what are you guys doing tonight? And you should _definitely_ take a shower."

Holding my phone up for her to see, I shake my head. "We're not doing anything tonight. I texted her but she hasn't texted me back. Whatever."

"Oh, but she gave you her number, so she's probably just busy," Rose decides. "Dinner. It's dinnertime. She's eating with her family."

"I guess," I mumble, not bothering to explain that it was actually Jane who gave me Bella's number.

Rose smiles and turns her attention back to the news. If Rose doesn't catch the headlines on CNN International every hour when she's home, she flips out. Same top stories over and over again, same people with strange accents and bad hair. We were all relieved when we found out the satellite company out here carries the channel. It was bad enough moving her away from the only home she's known, but depriving her of her favorite news channel? That would've been wrong. I immediately feel bad for my attitude towards her tonight, and ask if she wants anything from the kitchen.

"Yes, actually. Could you—oh shit, that's gotta be her!" she exclaims.

I guess I could pretend it's no big deal that someone just texted me. I could act like I wasn't waiting for Bella to respond. But if I wait too long and it ends up not being Bella, I'll probably kick the coffee table and break my mom's favorite vase. I wouldn't be fooling anyone by taking my time—Rose isn't stupid, she'll just tease me and act even more obnoxious.

So I open it.

_I didn't realize this was a full-time job, Mr. Cullen._

"Edward, what did she write? You're red! Know what? I'm going upstairs now. Don't do anything disgusting on the new furniture."

Ignoring Rose, I stare at the screen for a few more minutes. _Mr. Cullen_, huh? This girl is unbelievable. She knows it was me, and she knows what I was referring to. I just need to come up with something to text back. "I really want to lick your stomach" is probably not appropriate. Neither is "Your mouth is perfect, I think about it all day long" – even if it is the truth.

I wait two minutes before typing my response.

_But you're so good at it. I'd even ask you to do some overtime._

It takes her less than a minute to reply.

_Should I be offended? What kind of entertainment are we talking about? ;)_

The kind where I push you up against a locker and kiss you for the entire lunch hour. The kind where you make the sounds I've memorized directly into my ear. The kind where I come over after soccer practice and you sit on my lap and let me touch you until it's time for me to leave and make it home in time for dinner. The kind–

Wait… Why should she be offended? Fuck. Does she think I just called her a whore or something? That's definitely not what I meant.

_I didn't mean to offend._

Sent.

_Edward, I was kidding._

Thank God. I take a deep breath and think about what to say next.

_I'm looking forward to hanging out in PA._

Tell me you're looking forward to it, too, Bella. My chest feels funny when my phone vibrates again. I smile. It's really strange.

_Yeah, me too… sushi is yum._

I laugh. I want to tell her I think _she's_ yum. _Loser_. She'd probably never talk to you again. A new text shows up on my screen before I get to chance to reply.

_What's your favorite food?_

Random, Bella Swan.

_Steak. Rare. And pizza. Yours?_

_I love pizza. The pizza at school is decent._

It's not, and I tell her that when I write back.

_Ok, I was lying. But tomorrow is pizza day._

I ask her why she lied and tell her I usually bring a sandwich.

_Oh. I lied so you'd try the pizza tomorrow._

Why does she want me to try the pizza?

_Because you never eat in the cafeteria._

Should I be eating in the cafeteria? This conversation has taken a strange turn.

_Edward, I eat in the cafeteria._

Ah. I get it now, I think. She wants me to eat where she eats. She wants to hang out, right? Why can't she just come out and say it? She should just say it. Or maybe I should say it. Someone has to say something because I want to eat disgusting cafeteria pizza with her tomorrow.

_Bella, will you share some of your pizza with me tomorrow?_

Her response makes me laugh out loud.

_Of course, you're a great person to have around while I eat._

Knowing full well that what I am about to send her is pretty inappropriate, I do it anyway.

_My fingers are at your service, Miss Swan._

If I don't hear back from Bella, I'll know that I crossed a line. But this is the same girl who licked yogurt off my finger this morning. She's enjoying this just as much as I am. Still, I'm nervous as I wait for my phone to vibrate again. It's taking her longer than usual to get back to me, and I'm anxious. A car door slams, telling me my parents are back. Not in the mood to deal with their usual bullshit, I get up and quickly make my way up to my room, quietly closing the door behind me. I pace around for a few minutes, staring at the screen every ten seconds. Don't be mad at me Bella, please. I wasn't trying to offend you. You shouldn't take offence. I just want my fingers on you. In your mouth. In your hair. Fuck this. Now I'm hard, and she's gone, and my parents are downstairs. Maybe I should just take that shower now.

Tossing the phone onto my bed, I take off my t-shirt and shorts. I almost don't notice the blinking red light, but when I do, I'm calm again.

_Hmmm… I've never had lovelier fingers at my service._

She likes my fingers.

_They've never touched anything lovelier._

If this is too much, she'll ignore me. If she ignores me, I'll get over it. It's not like I actually know her.

_Lovelier than what, Edward?_

I'll say it, because it's not a lie, and because I want her, and I'll do whatever it takes to get her. I type one word, and there's really no turning back.

_You._

**I just had sex with Bella Swan**

Every time I think she's finally asleep, she moves. When she moves, I have to touch her. When I touch her, she moves closer to me, or touches me back. So I shouldn't actually want her to sleep. I should be glad she's up. I should be glad she doesn't mind the smoke. She doesn't think I'm too hairy, or that the hair covering my chest is too dark against my skin. She lies next to me, in nothing but the hair tie on her wrist and the ring on her middle finger, playing with the hair, tickling me, making me hard. I keep waiting for her to move her mouth down and maybe blow me, but she doesn't. Maybe she has an aversion to that. I need to stop complaining. I've been fucking her all night. She's so hot. Very cool. Really fun. I fucked up earlier, and she didn't leave. I opened up my mouth and fucked up again, but she stayed. Still, if she falls asleep I can relax, so Bella needs to fall asleep. I don't know what to say to her. Everything comes out stupid or wrong, and I can't just kiss her or fuck her each time I'm at a loss for words.

She's so warm now on top of me. How is it that she's still here? Maybe the stupid shit I say doesn't matter to her. She wants to fuck me and doesn't care about anything else. I should be okay with that, but the idea also makes me feel sick. Girls aren't supposed to be this complicated. I shouldn't be thinking this hard. Chelsea was so easy. Shit, I can't believe I told her about Chelsea right after we had sex. Probably a bad idea. I didn't even say the things I wanted to say right after. That Chelsea never made my brain come to a complete stop just by kissing me. Chelsea's laugh didn't give me that feeling in my stomach that Bella's does. Fucking Chelsea was just sex, even if Chelsea didn't know that, even though we'd been together forever. Fucking Bella... I can't even think about that right now. My feelings for Chelsea never scared me. Chelsea made me happy. She was hot, and she was my friend. Everything about Bella is scary. She's taking over my life. And I don't like it, but I don't want to stay away.

**EPOV before he leaves in Chapter 14**

"You need to tell her," she says in a loud, clear voice.

When my mom turns and asks me what Rose is talking about, my cousin gives me a big, smug smile. She got what she wanted.

"Nothing," I mutter.

"It's not 'nothing'—it's actually a pretty big deal. Aunt Esme, Edward—"

"Rose, mind your own—"

"Edward." My mom gives me that look that makes me want to run up to my room and lock myself inside.

"I haven't told Bella yet," I explain.

"Edward!"

"See?" Rose hisses.

"We're leaving Forks Monday morning. It's Friday. What are you waiting for?" my mom asks.

"He's waiting for Monday morning, so he doesn't have to face her. She can be scary. You're afraid of your girlfriend." Rose laughs. She pours some milk over her cereal and sits back, waiting for the cereal to get soggy.

"Girlfriend? Is it that serious?"

Rose decides to answer for me. "It's serious, Aunt Esme. She's in love with him."

"She's not in… what?" I ask.

"You're not that dumb, are you? She's in love with you. It's going to break her heart."

Is she in love with me? No. What the fuck? We just met. Rose watches too many movies. And I spend too much time with Rose, because at least twice this week, I've stopped myself from saying shit like "I love you" when Bella looks at me and says stuff that makes me feel like I'm gonna throw up. But not throw up in a bad way. My stomach just feels funny. And then my mouth opens, and I stop myself from saying stupid shit just because she can make me feel good all the time.

All the time.

"Edward, regardless of whether or not you think Bella is in love with you, I think you need to tell her you are leaving sooner rather than later," my mom says.

"Look, I know what I'm doing. Do you realize how unfair this is, mom? You made us move here and now… I don't want to leave. And if I have to leave, I'm spending this weekend with her, and she's not gonna know. I know her, she'd want—"

"Oh come on! She'd want you to just leave without saying goodbye? You know what? _I'm_ telling her!" Rose shouts. I reach out and grab her arm as she reaches for her phone.

"Don't," I warn her.

"Please tell her."

I look into my cousin's eyes and know she's right. I can't just wait until Monday to tell her. At first I thought Dad would change his mind, let me stay an extra too weeks, but that's not going to happen. I need to tell Bella I'm leaving. But I want to drive her to school today for the last time, and make her smile, and sigh, and tell me stories in the car. I want to kiss her for hours, and hold her hand in class, and fuck her as she whispers "baby" in my ear and comes. I'm obsessed with Bella. I want to take her with me. I want to stay and tell my family to fuck off. I want every day to be a weekday because that means I get to see her first thing in the morning, and remain under the same roof as her until the afternoon.

I just want her all the time.

**On the phone with Chelsea (around Chapter 19)**

"Hey, I didn't think you were gonna call tonight."

Neither did I, but she doesn't need to know that.

"I didn't want to wake you. I got back pretty late," I tell her.

"You were out?"

"Yeah, we drove out to Forks, I've been stuck in a car all day with Rose and Royce."

"Poor baby."

"Yeah."

"Did you have fun, at least?" she asks.

Her voice, which sounded sleepy when she first answered the phone, sounds more awake now. I usually hate how she's asleep before midnight, leaving me on my own until I'm tired enough to go to bed at around four, sometimes five in the morning. Tonight, however, I wish she'd just ignored my call and continued to sleep.

"So," she whispers, "I want to hear about Seattle, Edward. Do you love it?"

"It's fine."

"Do you think you'd want to move there? I mean, your dad said it's  
your best option."

I know I'm going to lose my temper if this conversation continues.

"Chelsea..." I know that saying her name will be enough.

"Okay, okay. I know you hate talking about this, but you applied and got in! Baby, it's such a great opportunity, and—"

"Yeah, it's great. Listen, it's late, you should sleep."

"Edward, I know you're worried, but I said it before, and I meant it—I'll go where you go. I can transfer there, or find a new job. You don't need to worry—"

"For fuck's sake, Chelsea, that's not even... I'll call you tomorrow."

"You know what? I'm trying to be supportive—"

"And I appreciate that, but I'm not going to med school next year," I tell her.

"Edward!"

"We'll talk tomorrow. I have to go, I'm tired."

"Fine. You're in a funk again. I can't talk to you when you get like this..."

But she does. She talks about Dr. Silverman and how I should see him again. She talks about brunch with my parents today, and how worried they are about me, and how she was able to calm them down. She talks about her own needs, and how much she loves me. She reminds me of the two years we've been together since we ran into each other at a party on the Lower East Side. She talks about moving to Seattle, or Boston, or even St. Louis if it would make me happy. I take out her picture and stare at it while she talks, smiling back at her big smile, running a finger over her long blonde hair. Chelsea makes me happy. After years of shit, she came into my life and made things better. I love her. I love her enough to consider going to med school, doing other things I'd rather not do. I love her so much that every day this past week, I stopped myself from calling another girl, even as a friend. But today, I held Bella's hand, and I listened to her voice, and I watched her for hours... And it sickens me that that's all it took for me to wonder what it would be like if Chelsea didn't exist, and if I didn't have to get on a plane to return to her in just under a week.

**How Edward got his scar**

She's trying to comfort me. She feels like this is her fault. It's not her fault, even though it's true that I wouldn't have been in the cab if she hadn't asked me to meet her at her office in the middle of the night. She was just tired and lonely, and wanted to see her boyfriend. It's not her fault that I was too busy talking to another girl to remember to leave the apartment. It's not her fault that I kept telling the cabbie to hurry, and that I was leaning forward, laughing at a text I had just received from the girl who had made me late in the first place. It's not her fault that a homeless guy decided to run across the street, forcing us to make an abrupt stop. None of this is Chelsea's fault. And yet I'm being a dick to her, because her hand isn't the hand I want to feel on my shoulder right now. Her voice isn't the voice I want to hear. Her name isn't the name I want listed as my emergency contact. Her face isn't the face I want to see after having received four stitches on my chin.

She keeps saying things, like how she'll take care of me, take the day off to make sure I'm happy and feel okay. I don't want these things. Even a week or two ago, I would have taken Chelsea's sweet words and warm touches and never wanted to let them go. But with every day that passes, it's like I know that this isn't right. It's not right when I wake up next to her. It's not right when she calls me and I feel disappointment, even a little annoyance because she's who she is, and she's not her. It's not right that I felt relieved when she avoided sex twice in one week. It's not right that she's avoiding sex. She's not like that. I'm not like that. We've never been like that. It's like she knows. It's like she can read my mind. I hope she can't, because I never want to break Chelsea's heart. And right now, there's only one thing on my mind... A girl with soft brown hair and a mouth I want to kiss until neither of us can kiss anymore.

I ask her for my phone, telling her I have to text my parents. There's no way she doesn't notice how red I am as I tell my first outright lie. I text Bella, and when she replies, I smile despite the pain.

**Edward's first morning in Seattle**

"I get that, Edward, but you need a place to stay, right? I get back at around six tonight. Bring your things and we can have dinner. You'll stay in the office like last time."

I've never wanted to hang up on my cousin as much as I do now. I don't want to hear about moving in with her. I didn't come to Seattle to stay with Rose. I'm exactly where I want to be.

"Rose..."

"You can't stay there! What? You're just going to move in with her?"

Maybe? "No, but..."

"Listen, I have class in five minutes, I have to go. Do you want to grab lunch? Talk?"

"Yeah, let's do that," I agree, relieved that this conversation is over for now

"I'll text you. I'm going to let everyone know you're okay, and that you're here in Seattle."

"Sure..." But she's already gone. I think maybe I should call Chelsea and let her know I'm here, but I don't want to answer the questions that would follow. "Seattle? Why Seattle? I told you I'd move there with you. What's in Seattle? When are you coming back?"

I had to break up with her. The last few days I spent with her made me sick. I was in love with Bella, I was telling Bella that every chance I got. It was wrong, but I couldn't help myself. And right now? I don't want to think about Chelsea and how she's dealing with this. I'm in Bella's bed, and Rose needs to back off. I'm not leaving Bella's apartment until Bella forces me out. Look at her. Do her legs ever end? Could her nipples be more perfect? And her mouth. She's even better than she was in high school. She's better than anything, everyone else. She makes me dizzy. Or maybe I just need to eat... I want her to wake up. I get to wake her up. I love today.

**I'll be posting outtakes I wrote in Edward's and Jane's points of view for FGB next week. I'm also starting a new story this week, so if you want to check out more of my stuff, alert me, I guess. You guys have always been awesome. Let me know what you think about Edward. I realize that none of this is new material for a lot of you, but I promised to post these once BS was complete. **

**Thanks so much for reading.**

**xo**


	2. Jane and Bella have sex

**You guys can thank (or yell at) Writeontime for this. She's the one who suggested I write a Jane/Bella outtake from BS for Uncle Sam's Little Ficsters. She's awesome.**

**You can find some great one-shots from ciaobella27, spanglemaker9, theglorydays, and writeontime on USLF's profile. I have it listed under my favorite authors.  
**

**I dedicate this to a great American, spargelkun, who once asked, "What is more patriotic than girlsex?" **

**I don't own Twilight. Stephenie def doesn't want to own this.  
**

_Forks, Washington_

_July 5, 2012_

"I mean, seriously, Jane, you need to wear sunblock. I know you hate looking yellow all the time, but it's just a bad idea to expose yourself to the sun the way that you do. As long as you have some color on your face, you're good!"

"Just shut _up_," is Jane's only response. She closes her eyes and ignores my advice until I notice how pink her shoulders and the tip of her nose look twenty minutes later. I take my bottle of sunblock and pour some into my palm, before walking over to her and applying it to her shoulders. She protests by trying to wiggle away from me, but I straddle her and cover every inch of her exposed skin with the thick, white cream she hates so much.

"You're so stubborn. You're just jealous because you burn and don't tan," she tells me.

"You look like an old lady when you tan. Wrinkles, leathery skin. You're not getting any younger. Skin is the most important thing."

"Is it? I don't remember the last time someone complimented me on my skin," she says.

"I do."

Edward talked about my skin all the time. When we were sitting around, kissing, touching. When we were having sex. He'd mumbled things about my body, my face, my skin, all the time while we were rolling around, quietly doing dirty things. Except they were never really dirty, because things didn't feel dirty with him. They just felt… ugh. I'm not going there. No Edward. Enough Edward. Why am I thinking about him again? _Oh_. Skin. Someone needs to compliment Jane's skin. It's soft and pretty.

"For instance, look at my flawless skin. Pretty, no?" I ask, getting up and moving back to my chair. "You end up buying all these products to cover up blemishes. I take precautions and don't get blemishes. I save money, and look awesome."

"Bella… shut up. Really, it's just one of those days. I think we're going to play the quiet game."

"What game is that?" I ask.

"You know, the one we play all the time. No one talks, and the first person who says anything loses. You know it well—you lose every single time."

"Oooh, that game. I'm pretty sure it has another name."

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. My _head_."

"Stop drinking."

"Stop talking," she whines.

"I'm bored."

"Find a boy."

Except I don't want to find a boy. I want Jane to turn around and me kiss again, like she did last night. And the only reason why I'm talking so much is because I don't like the silence between us right now. What if she regrets what happened? What if she's mad at me? What if she thinks I sucked? She can't think that. Oh my God. So I have to keep talking to make sure everything is cool. I want things to be cool. And I wouldn't mind repeating last night. Just one more time. Because while Jane had been really, really drunk and probably doesn't remember much, I was pretty sober and remember everything. And I can't even try to pretend… and thinking about it makes my face hot… and yeah, it was the most fun I've had in years.

_July 4, 2012_

"You're sooo wasted," Jane tells me, slurring her words.

"I'm sooo sober. You're the one who's wasted. I think we should leave before your mom sees you like this."

"No! I don't care if she sees me. I'm fine!"

"Janey, you can barely stand up. Let's get out of here. If you want, we can take a few bottles of… whatever's left and drink them in back of the truck."

"Let's drink them here."

"It's your mom's picnic, we're done drinking here! You want it to be like last time?" I ask her.

She shakes her head.

"Good. So let's go. Pick a bottle. Hurry up. And for fuck's sake, every time you scratch that mosquito bite above your boob, you expose yourself. Nice tits, but there are children present."

"Do you like my tits, Bella?" Jane asks, before erupting into giggles.

I roll my eyes, knowing she won't notice anything I do at this point. "Yes, they're awesome."

"I like yours."

"You haven't seen them in years, they're not as cute anymore." I sigh.

"That's what you think…"

Oh God. She's such a mess. I manage to half-carry Jane, who's sort of carrying a bottle of gin (she's so going to drop it any second now), all the way to my truck unnoticed. I take the bottle away from her because who just drinks gin like that? And she really doesn't need anything else. She'll pass out on our way home, and I'll get my dad to help me take her up to my room.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you really make out with that redhead at that Halloween party you went to last year with Riley?" Jane asks me.

"Um, yeah," I reply, wondering why she's bringing this up now. "Why?"

"Was she cute?"

"I guess? I don't remember. I was wasted. Riley took pictures. I thought I showed them to you."

"Yeah, she was alright."

"You're so weird."

"I am," she agrees.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"When was the last time you had sex?" I ask her. She'll probably give me a more honest answer while she's drunk than when she's sober.

"A month ago," she mumbles.

"What?"

"A month ago," she repeats.

"With? How did you keep this from me? Was he hot? How big was his dick?"

"Ewwwwwww."

"Sorry." I smile at Jane, who looks like she's about to throw up. "Dude, tell me to stop before you puke. I don't want to smell that in here for weeks."

"I'm not gonna throw up. Although I should. I hate boys. I hate their penises. Gross."

"Um, okay…"

"Girls are pretty," Jane says, with a silly grin on her face.

"What about Sam?" I ask.

"What about him?"

"You dated him!" I cry out.

"So?"

"So, when did you decide that you're a lesbian?"

"I'm not…"

"Uh… Jane, dude, you just said you hate dicks and followed that up with 'girls are pretty'—I'm pretty sure you're into vag."

"Does that make a difference to… forget it. I'm sleepy, stop talking," she tells me.

"Janey, we're having this discussion!"

"Your voice is annoying."

"Bitch. Oh my God! Were you totally into it when we made out that one time freshman year?"

"You're a sloppy kisser," she informs me.

"I focus on more important things," I explain.

"Sick."

"Delicious."

"You are so disgusting."

"Admit it, you want me." I pinch her cheek and wink at her. Her face is on fire.

"Oh shit! The fireworks started! Stop the car, I wanna watch!"

I pull over and turn off the engine. We climb into the back of the truck and spread out the gross blanket that has been sitting here all summer. Like so many times before, we lie down beside each other, shoulder to shoulder, and watch the fireworks.

"Yay! Independence is awesome!" Jane sings.

"You're such a ridiculous drunk."

"British people suck. No taxation… I don't know, what happens next?"

"Oh, Jesus."

"I take that back. I love the Brits," Jane says. "America would be so much more awesome as a gigantic colony or something. We'd have a queen."

"Shut up, Jane. Just watch the fireworks."

"Do you see fireworks, or whatever, when you kiss people?" Jane asks me.

"Wow, could you be any cornier? No."

"Never?" she wants to know.

"No," I tell her. "That's just lame. I just get horny."

"Were you horny when we made out freshman year?"

"I don't remember—I barely remember kissing you."

"It was nice," Jane tells me.

"Pish. Sure it was. You took advantage of me in my drunken state."

"Your lips are always so red. I remember once, you and Edward picked me up in his stupid car, and your lips were a dark red, all puffy, because he always ate your face. I wanted to lick them."

"Um… okay."

"Shit, the fireworks are so loud. I feel them in my tummy," Jane says. She starts to giggle and I can't help it—I'm giggling with her. She's right. They're so loud that I feel them in my tummy. They're also super lame. Cheap ass fireworks in Forks.

"Man, these fireworks suck."

Jane nods, agreeing with me. "Totally."

"Yeah."

"I hate this holiday," Jane announces.

"Me too!" I exclaim. "Like, what's the point? I get it. It's awesome. We're awesome. Yay, America! I just don't care."

"Me neither. Let's move to France—it's cooler there. I bet we'd have more fun celebrating their independence."

"Totally."

"Wow, I'm surprised we're not stoned. We sound like we do when we're stoned."

"I wish we were." I sigh. "That would be something to celebrate."

"I hate hot dogs, too."

"You hate everything that resembles a penis," I observe.

"Yeah."

"Bet you love pie." I crack myself up.

"Ha. Ha."

"Seriously, have you ever… you know."

"Probably," Jane replies.

"Is it totally weird the first time? Different?" I ask. I might as well ask. You never know when such knowledge will come in handy.

"Weird…no. Different? Yeah, definitely."

"Cool. I think I'd be an awesome lesbian," I tell Jane.

"You'd be a terrible lesbian! You like men."

"Yeah, that's true, but I love breasts."

"You always did stare at mine for too long back when we had gym together."

"They were nice!"

"Were?" Jane frowns.

"They still are."

The fireworks are still happening. What the fuck is up with that? Why not make the whole thing shorter, but spend more on quality shit? Stupid Forks. I sit up on my elbows and turn to Jane. I can't help but notice how her boobs are almost completely exposed. If I hook a finger into her top right now and pull it down, I'll see everything. I feel my finger moving towards her, and I stop it before this actually happens. What the…

"Hey, I'm curious," I blurt out, before I can stop myself. "Will you show me your… breasts? Ew, that doesn't sound hot. Tits? Better? Gross."

Jane looks at me like she's suspicious that something's up. I open my eyes wide, knowing she won't be able to resist the look I'm giving her. I'm innocent, Jane. Don't worry.

"Why?" she asks.

I don't know, Jane. Don't ask stupid questions. I'm already questioning my desire to see you naked right now. Either show me, or mock me and shut up. I don't care either way. Just don't drag this out. It's bad enough that I'm sitting here almost desperate to see you naked. I don't know what's come over me. It just happens sometimes. And I'm not even going to pretend that I haven't watched girls going at it in porn. I have. Sometimes I'm in the mood to watch nothing but girls going at it. I know where to go for the best stuff. And I'm also not going to pretend that I'm not feeling extremely horny right now. Like, my nipples… ugh. What's wrong with me? This is Jane. She's like a sister to me. I shouldn't be this turned on by her right now, because she's family. It's like wanting to do your own brother, if your brother had nice tits and pretty, long blonde hair. Gross. Gross. Gross. She's still looking at me like that. I have to say something, or laugh and pretend I was kidding.

"Because your girl love is rubbing off on me and I want to see boobs."

"You can't just _look_," Jane tells me.

"Why not? I don't know if I want to do anything just yet. I want to get a better idea of what you're offering before I decide whether or not I want to test out the product."

"That's not fair. I won't just expose myself to you. You have to do it too!" Jane says.

"Fine. Half this town has seen them anyway." I sigh.

"You wish. You're not nearly as slutty as you want to be."

I nod, frowning, because it's true. "Fine. Here." And I yank off my tank.

"Not fair! You're wearing a bra!"

"Ugh, Jane, I'm sorry I'm classier than you are and wear bras when I'm out in public."

"Whatever, you're the one who told me I didn't need one in this dress," she reminds me, pulling down the top of her dress until I can see her nipples and they're pretty hard and big, unlike mine, and I want to touch them and see if they'll get stiffer, or stay the same.

"Cool."

"You like?" Jane asks.

"I'm gonna touch them," I let her know.

"Finally," I think I hear her say.

Shit. Her skin is… soft. And her nipples… don't feel like mine. They're way bigger, like I said, and they feel weird between my fingers. And yeah, they do change a little. I like them better now. Weird. Weird. Does that make sense? No. I like how they feel. I pinch. She jumps. I reach out and touch her other nipple, and I just play around. She breathes different. Her eyes close a little, open again. The same thing happens to her mouth. I move closer. I take her breasts in my hands. I do things boys do to me all the time. She likes it. I kiss her. She tastes like expensive things her mom keeps in their liquor cabinet. Her tongue is in my mouth. Weird. Shit. Nice. She's touching me. Now she's kissing my neck. Holy… Ouch. I like bites, but that was intense. I'm being loud. Do I like this that much? Am I enjoying this enough to be moaning like I…just…can't…get…enough. Oh! Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. I love it when my nipples find their way into mouths. And this… and this? It feels so, so good. Jane it a biter. She nibbles. She sucks and sucks and sucks. And I love it, because my fingers are in her hair and I'm holding her to me like if she stops sucking and licking like she is, I'll… I don't know, die?

"Shit. This is good. Oh. My. God. Jane. Jane. _Jane._"

And I guess what I just said means "touch my vagina" because Jane's fingers have moved under my skirt, and under my thong, and shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. My poor nipple is mouthless now, because Jane is commenting on the state of things down there. And yeah, I'm wet. And yeah, I want her to touch me and I want to come and I want to rub up against something and come again and I want that something to be her.

"Kiss me" are the last words I say before I'm squealing and whimpering and trying not to scream. Good. So good. I love her breasts against mine. I love her lips. I love her hands. Her fingers. Her _fingers. _And my fingers. They're in her hand. She moves them down. Down. Not on me. On her. Shit. I've never done this before. I've done it to myself, but that's my own vagina. This is hers. And _oh_—she's really tight. I mean, guys tell me I am, but that's just because they love hearing themselves say that, maybe it enhances the experience for them. Who knows? It mostly annoys me. But Jane? She _is, _and I give up on two fingers and work with one, because it's less annoying. And she seems to like it. 'Faster' 'please' 'yes' are the words I hear from her. Nothing else. So yeah, I try to go faster and not be too stupid and clumsy with the whole thing. And I try my best to make her say 'yes' again, and she does, and then we're kissing and kissing and moving, and I think I'm humping her thigh at one point. I don't even know what's going on, but I'm on my back and she's staring at me. She's staring between my legs. And shit, when was the last time I waxed or trimmed or anything? Who knows. It's been a while. She doesn't care. She's… licking me. Like, straight up licking me. And people do this differently. And I love it all. But I love this the most. And I think she steadies my hips with a hand because I'm moving all over the place. And I'm touching myself, playing with my nipples, and she looks up and her eyes are big and wide and she smiles and I smile and this is the best night ever in a long, long time.

Because I just had two orgasms, and I gave one. I should give another one, but I don't know how I feel about reciprocating, and she's covering herself now, and I'm just sitting here half naked, and it's sort of awkward.

"Jane, I—"

_Ugh. _Before I can finish my thought, she's scrambling over to the side of the truck and _gross_. Yeah. She's puking. This what my vagina did to her. Great. I feel awesome. She needs help. I crawl over to her and hold back her hair. I think I want to lean over and kiss her neck, but she's puking, so… gross. I don't do it. But maybe I can later. Or not at all. This was so weird. What's wrong with me? I wait until she's done, and help her back into the cab of my truck. She passes out. My dad and I manage to get her into bed. I wonder if he knows. Hah. Yeah. Sure. I stare at her for a while and think about every single thing that happened because I know I'll probably avoid thinking about it ever again. I quietly touch myself. I feel better. I close my eyes. What a day.

_July 5, 2012_

"Jane?"

"Bella, _what?_"

"You went down on me last night."

"Ughhhhhh."

"So you remember…"

"Of course I remember," Jane snaps.

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure…"

She flips over onto her stomach and doesn't say anything.

"Jane?"

"Yes?" She sounds scary.

"Was it that bad?" I ask her. "Did I disgust you?"

"It's not always about you, Bella…"

"But my… my…"

"…or about your vagina."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she insists.

"Okay. Yeah. I thought so. Everyone likes doing that to me."

"Oh, Jesus," Jane mutters.

"Also, now we don't have to hate that holiday anymore," I point out.

"Good point."

"Yay!"

"Bella, please, just shut up."

"Okay."

**I know, I know. This isn't new either. I just had to give it a permanent home on my profile.**

**:)  
**


	3. Fandom Gives Back Outtakes

**Hey guys! So I'm posting the Edward and Jane POVs I wrote for Fandom Gives Back. They take place around the time Edward and Bella ran into each other again in Seattle (so around Chapter 17-18). I hope you guys like them. Please let me know what you think. **

**As always, thanks to WriteOnTime for her beta work, and Ciaobella27 for prereading. They're awesome. And thank you so much to Team LittleCiaoOnTime for bidding, and Carolalala for putting the team together. **

**I don't own Twilight.  
**

**Edward**

"I can't believe it. It's such a small world, right?" Rosalie says, pouring the last of the syrup over waffles. "Bella Swan. And she's just as cute as ever. Except for her hair. I can't believe she didn't kill the person who did that to her. But I told her it's just hair, it'll grow back."

I take a bite out of the French toast Rose ordered for me and nod. Yes, it's a small world. Yes, it's hard to believe. It was also the most awkward interaction I've had within someone since... since I met Bella back in high school. It was always awkward with her before we got to know each other. She wasn't the sweetest girl or the nicest girl, but that didn't matter because she was hot. She was always looking at me and making me feel uncomfortable. But then... yeah. Then she was my girlfriend. And then she wasn't.

"I saw you guys talking in the hallway."

"Yeah, what was that all about?" Royce asks with a wink. Who winks like that? I look away before everyone at this table knows how much I want to punch this douche.

"I bumped into her outside the bathroom. Rose, that bathroom is disgusting, by the way."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rose shrugs. "It's Royce's place. Royce, the hallway bathroom is disgusting."

Royce rolls his eyes at my cousin, who smiles at him like an idiot. I've never seen Rose like this. At first I thought she wasn't really into him, but I guess I was wrong. They seem to get along, and he makes Rose smile. Despite what my parents think about their relationship, the fact that he seems to make her happy is good enough for me—even if he's the douchiest guy I've ever met. Besides, nothing is ever good enough for my parents. Chelsea isn't intelligent enough. Her nose isn't real enough. I'm not driven enough. I don't care enough. Like I told Rose yesterday, when she was upset about her latest conversation with my mother: nothing will ever please them. Hitting "ignore" when they call is the only way to go.

"Edward? Are you almost done? We're running late."

No. I'm not almost done, but this French toast is disgusting. "I guess I don't have much of an appetite."

"Oh, geez." Rose sighs.

"What?"

"You don't have much of an appetite? Tell me you're not back in your Bella funk."

"Bella funk?" Royce asks. I look up from my plate half-expecting him to look amused, but all I see on his face is confusion.

"Rose..."

"It's nothing," she quickly says, turning to Royce. "Edward and Bella used to date. For like, five minutes," she adds. She reaches over and covers my hand with hers.

"Rose—what...?"

"It's true! I told you then, and I'm telling you now—"

"I'm fine. I'm really hung-over, and the food here sucks."

"So, this isn't about Bella?" she presses.

"We went out for five minutes, six years ago. Who cares about Bella?"

Rose grins and sits back. She asks me about Chelsea's keratin treatments, like I would know anything about them. She informs me that since it rains a lot in Seattle, Chelsea is concerned about her hair, which gets pretty big when it's humid out. I remember a recent trip the two of us took to her parents' beach house. She kept complaining about the humidity, and I kept insisting that I couldn't tell the difference. I wasn't lying. Yeah, her hair was bigger, but she was cute. I reach for my phone to text my girlfriend, because I miss her. I haven't texted her since I landed yesterday. I had meant to last night, but I kept thinking about my conversation with Bella, and trying to decide whether or not I should call her sometime this week. I'm not sure why I was thinking about her. She was just a kid I knew. And despite our drunken conversation in the hallway, there's nothing there to explore. I quickly check my outbox to make sure I didn't text Bella last night—I didn't. Good. I was so drunk. And she was... the same. Like old Bella. Old Bella was awesome.

"I'm done," I announce, pushing my plate away. "Let's go?"

"Yeah, we have to pay at the register," Rose points out.

"Classy."

Royce tells us he'll take care of it, since I'm their guest. I don't argue. That motherfucker can afford it. Rosalie and I walk out of the diner and I quickly light a cigarette before Royce gets back.

"Hey, we're still on for Forks next weekend, right?" she asks.

"Sure."

"I'm really excited. It's been years since I last saw Emmett."

"Yeah." I wonder why she wants to see Emmett. I don't even remember what he looks like, even though we hung out a couple of times during our brief sojourn in Forks. Was she into him? Probably. It's still odd that she wants to go back for a visit.

"Edward, is everything okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just tired," I tell her.

"You need to rest. You had a long day yesterday. I'm glad we didn't decide to drive up there today."

"Yeah, that wouldn't have been fun."

"Plus, Bella's going to be there next weekend," she adds.

"She hasn't decided yet. She said 'maybe'."

Rose nods. "Was it strange, running into her like that?"

"No. I don't know."

She looks at me, really looks at me, the way only Rosalie ever looks at me. Her eyes are a clear blue, and when we were younger, I used to be scared when she stared into my soul like this. I don't think she can see anything, find out any secrets, but it's intimidating nonetheless. I try to stare her down, but it doesn't work. And I'm tired. I want this week to be over. I want meetings and visits to schools to be over. I'm the first one to look away, but I still catch her victorious smile. She won. So smug. Ignoring her is better than starting an argument now, so I take out my phone and stare at it, waiting for Chelsea to text back.

It makes me smile—this ache I feel when I'm expecting to see her name on my screen and the words she writes to me. It feels good to miss her. It feels good to get excited like I did when I realized I had a second chance with her. And Chelsea texts back. It's only been seven minutes since my text, and I was already aching and ready to hear back. She's sweet, and she's gorgeous, and she's really cute. I put my phone back into my pocket, and get into Royce's car. But that ache? It's still there, and it's confusing. I still want. I still need. I start a long text conversation with her, flirting and joking around, trying to get her to say words that will calm this thing inside of me. Hours later, I realize no amount of words is going to be enough. Even her voice doesn't help. I'm staring at my phone again, and my finger is hovering over the call button, but it's not Chelsea's number I'm looking at.

But I don't call. Because, who cares about Bella?

XxXxX

Why would she be interested in him? He's tall, he's got a lot of money, his life is pretty sweet—I can't deny that. Still, he's not her type. Not that I'd know her type. I don't know her. But this guy? He can't be her type. And he talks about her like he's with her, like they're dating and were fucking last night. I wonder if they were fucking last night. I remember fucking her. She was all sweet with round eyes and hot sounds and nice tits, and she'd lie on top of me and curl up into a ball. She was so cute. I was obsessed with her. There was a voicemail from her I listened to for months. I kept saving it, over and over again, terrified that something would happen and I'd lose it. _Hey Edward, it's me. I know it's late, but I wanted to talk to you. I miss you. _I'm probably making that up. I don't remember her exact words, but I remember listening and listening. It was all I had. I'd get hard and I'd want her. I'd miss her and I'd ache. I'd get angry and I'd rub one out. Bella. She was so hot. I used to think she was that one person you meet in life who you'll never forget. The love of your existence. The girl you'll meet again and fight for and hold and give up your life for and never let go. Back then, I would have done anything for just a few more seconds with her. I fought with my parents; I threatened them, I swore I'd never forgive them, but in the end, I got on that plane like a pussy and tried to be a man. I didn't cry, but I could have cried.

"So Bella said you guys went out when you were kids?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Did you get along with Jane?" Felix asks.

I shrug. "She was weird. I don't think she liked me."

He laughs. It's loud and obnoxious. "That's because she likes Bella."

"Yeah, I had gathered that."

"So no threesome action? I always wonder what those two have been up to in the past."

This guy's a dick. "When did you guys break up?" I ask, instead of answering his threesome question. He doesn't need to know that I've wondered about it, too. I wondered about it a lot back then, but actually doing it? We were kids. Shit like that doesn't happen when you're seventeen and in love with your girlfriend. It probably doesn't happen at all. It obviously hasn't happened to him.

He ignores my question like I ignored his. I'm pretty sure Bella told me she was single the other night at Royce's party. She must have broken up with him. He's still into her. He talks about her too much. I used to do that, too. I'd feel the need to bring her up randomly in conversations, even if it was to say something negative. I can't believe how all of this is coming back to me. It's like one day, everything is laid to rest, and then one smile, one conversation brings it all back. Like that ache. No amount of phone sex with my girlfriend or porn on my computer or running or reading or sightseeing has helped decrease the ache. I want to talk to her. I have nothing to say, but I keep thinking about talking to her. And when we're not talking, in my mind we're fucking. And I try to remember that her hair is short and she's not as bony as she used to be, but when my eyes are closed, I'm lying on top of the happiest girl, with the laziest smile, the biggest eyes, the best skin and legs and long, crazy hair. And it's so good to be inside her again. It's so good to hear her. I think of all the things I'd try. I think of her body now. I think of her drinking beer after beer. I think of how I wanted to grab her hand and take her to the futon I was sleeping on in Royce's office. And I'm such an asshole, because I want to fuck a girl I knew more than I've ever wanted to fuck my own girlfriend. Because I love sex with Chelsea, and I want it all the time, but I've never wanted it like this. This is a new level of want. A new type of want. It's scary, and fuck me, it's so wrong, but I want to feel like this. I want someone to make me feel this way. And Bella does. It's like I used to feel when I was with her. Like I used to feel when I thought about her for months and maybe even years after I left Forks.

Thankfully, Royce is back, and I don't have to talk to Felix anymore. Why did I agree to hang out with him in the first place? I blame Rose. I told her I was perfectly fine staying in tonight, after a long day of sightseeing and walking around Seattle. She insisted I go out and be social. Royce is like family. Sure he is. She reminded me that she loves spending time with Chelsea because Chelsea is like family, too. But in my mind, Royce and Chelsea are very different. Even though we're not engaged or married, I live with Chelsea, and she _is _my family. My phone vibrates. She's calling me. I leave the table and walk outside.

"Hey."

"Hiii," she says. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. What's up?"

"Nothing, I just walked into the apartment and I was about to call out your name, but I remembered that you're in Seattle, and it made me so sad."

"Don't be sad, I'll be back soon," I remind her.

"I'm sad. I hate sleeping alone."

I sigh. I feel like shit that she has to sleep alone. I also know that she has to get over it.

"Chel, it's no big deal. If you're freaking out, maybe spend the week at your parents'."

"No... I don't know, maybe I will. I mean, I was there all weekend and I just hate being alone. I can't sleep. Dr. Silverman said..." She stops.

"What'd Dr. Silverman say?"

"He said it's good that you went to Seattle by yourself. I need to figure out how to be on my own. I told him it's not even about you... That came out wrong. I mean, I just get so anxious when the apartment is empty..."

"Turn on the television. Or play some music," I suggest.

"No, I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Like, a lot," I tell her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You don't think I'm needy and sad?" she asks me.

"No. Listen, shit like this happens. It goes away. Remember when I was convinced Rose was going to die? I was fucked in the head. I thought she was lying about all those visits to the doctor. Did that make sense? No. Did I get over it? Yeah, but it took some time. And I didn't even have someone like Dr. Silverman to help me."

"Yeah, I remember. You were just stressed about other things."

"Exactly. You never have a problem hanging out on your own when I'm out with Demetri. You're just being silly and adorable, and you miss me."

"Yeah, I'm silly and adorable, and I want you back," she whispers.

How could I not love her? She's sweet, kind, funny. She needs me. I need her. She takes care of me, and lets me take care of her. She's beautiful, and when she's sexy, she's so sexy. Objectively, she's hotter than Bella. Objectively, she's probably the girl any guy would choose over Bella. And despite how messed up my life is, she loves me so much that she can't be away from me for a week. It's sick, but it feels awesome. Chelsea makes me feel awesome. And right now, I miss her so much it almost hurts. I miss her, but I can't stop thinking about this other girl, even though it's been ages since I was a kid in Forks, falling in love with her. She didn't want us, she didn't want me, and I was too much of a coward to try and get her to talk to me after I left. I moved on. It was over years ago. I'm not thinking about this anymore.

I walk back into the bar and sit across from Felix with a big grin on my face. I'll be out of here in less than a week. Seattle isn't going to work out for me. Chelsea loves New York, and I love New York. Maybe I'll leave this Friday instead of next Wednesday. Rose will be disappointed about Forks, but who cares about Forks? And who cares about Bella?

* * *

**Jane**

I can't help it. I can't help but worry when she gets like this. Nervous, biting the ends of her hair, biting her nails when she can't get the ends of her hair in her mouth because her hair is too short, biting her bottom lip, and then her upper lip. Her eyes are everywhere. Up, down, left right, they're focused, and then they're not. You know she's off in her own place. You talk to her, but she never responds. Her mouth opens just enough and stays that way, so that you know she's not there. She's thinking about him. It can last for seconds, or it can last much longer than that. It used to be hours of this, every day, when he first arrived in Forks and after he left. Of course, it got better as time passed, but she's been back in that state these past couple of days. No one can talk to her, nothing can touch her. When you say her name loud enough, she'll jump and she'll smile. She'll insist that she was there. She'll say she was paying attention.

The problem is that no one has ever told Bella to her face that this is unhealthy. Who would dare do such a thing? When someone has lived in a dream for this long, you can't tell her "Hey, wake up, you have a real life you need to live now." My biggest fear is that Bella doesn't have a real life to turn to. She could have a real life, a very fulfilling and happy one, but I'm not sure she's ready to let go of her dream life.

For the most part, it's harmless. She's in love with this idea, with this person who hasn't been in her life for over half a decade. And while that's not normal, she goes out, meets other people, and she functions like we all function. For the most part, Bella is normal. But when _this _happens, I worry.

Unfortunately, you never address concerns you have about someone's behavior when that person is doing fine. Why bring up the pain Bella felt and had to live through? Why remind her that he's gone? That it's over? Why ruin a nice morning, a fun afternoon? You don't do that, because when she's okay, she's the best. But then this happens, and you know that all it will take is a single word, and she'll turn against you. You can't criticize her, you can't tell her to snap out of it. "Snap out of what?" She doesn't know, and if she does know, she doesn't mind.

But I mind. I mind first and foremost because I live with her, and living with someone who walks around half-dead isn't easy. Secondly, she's my best friend. I love her more than I love anyone else in this world. I'm not exaggerating when I say that. She's everything to me. I want to help her. Sometimes, I feel like I've been placed on this earth just to help Bella. But it's also easy to become sick of being the parent in the relationship.

That's unfair. I'm not her parent. She doesn't ask me to be that for her, but someone needs to be. Her father is off in his own little world, and only encourages her behavior. Her mother just watches, and allows Bella to break her heart day after day, year after year. She's all they have. What are they going to do? Push her away? Of course not. I'm always there when they call, asking me to talk to her, steer her in the right direction, or make sure she is okay. The sad thing is, they have absolutely no faith in their own daughter. Bella doesn't know this, and even if she knew, she wouldn't care, because she doesn't care about anything. I've never met anyone who cares as little about what's going on around her as Bella. And the best part is, she has actually convinced herself that she does care.

"I love people, Jane. I want to help people. That's what I want to do."

What does that _mean_? I've never heard anything so stupid in my life_. _She wants to help people. She stares at the television screen for hours and makes her eyes big and sad.

"I want to help people. It's not fair."

I tell her to change the channel. There's nothing she can do. She has no money to send to people living in impoverished nations she randomly takes interest in. She refuses to go help at shelters, because she's too insecure to do things on her own. "Come with me, I don't want to go alone." No, Bella, I have no interest in doing things with you that you read about in the newspaper, or heard about at school. You'll get bored within the first five minutes, and ask me to find an excuse to leave. It's so ridiculous. My best friend is the most selfish person I know, and I love every piece of her, but when she starts to act selfless, I lose my shit. Because she's not selfless. Selfless people who want to help others just do it, they don't sit around and talk about it.

And now I am really losing my shit. Bella won't stop retelling Rosalie Cullen's stories about her volunteer work in sub-Saharan Africa. All the while, she's biting her nails and trying to find split ends in her hair. This is impossible, given its length. She gets frustrated and stares at her phone every other second.

"So, yeah, Rosalie said they always need people to help. Maybe I should go help out where I'm most needed," she says. She's breathless. She's wide-eyed and adorable. I want to hug her and smack her over the head.

"Needed? Why would they need you?"

"I don't know, Jane. Don't be a bitch. They need people. It's just a thought. I don't know what to do after graduation. I mean, I still really want to go to New York..."

"Yesterday, you were about to buy airline tickets to New York, and you decided to leave the day after your last final," I remind her. "Now you're talking about Africa. Maybe you should speak to your parents this weekend before you make life-altering decisions."

"Stop talking to me like I'm a child. Just because you doodle on fancy paper and some idiots think that's art, doesn't make you an expert on life."

"Whatever, Bella."

"Here we go again," she says. "What's crawled up your ass, Janey? You've been staring at me like you want to kill me. You never listen when I have something to say, unless I'm saying exactly what you want to hear."

"You're talking about going to Africa, Bella! Where did this come from? You change your mind about your life every five minutes."

"Change my... what? Forget it. I'm never starting a conversation with you again."

"You're such a child."

"You're like an old person. 'Oooh, I'm Jane. I can't take anything or anyone seriously but myself. No one else knows what they want.' I know what I want," she states.

"Oh yeah? Let me guess. You want Edward."

She doesn't respond. She gets up and stomps off to her room, slamming the door behind her.

"The neighbors!" I shout.

"Suck my dick!"

What am I supposed to say to that?

XxXxX

Yesterday's fight has been forgotten. Bella's smile is big, and her plans are bigger.

"Felix was telling me last night that his friend owns a club in New York City. I can work there as a hostess or something until I find a real job. Dad said he'll help me out until I find a real job, plus I'll have the money I make hostessing, and I can live somewhere cheap."

She bites into her sandwich, wipes off some mayo from the corner of her mouth, and smiles.

"Yeah, somewhere outside of Manhattan," I suggest. Jasper stayed in Brooklyn when he was in New York a few years ago. I don't feel like mentioning him right now, and she knows where Jasper stayed.

Bella nods. "Yep. You need to come with me. It'll be an adventure."

Her eyes are back on her phone.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep staring at your phone?"

"You know why."

It's moments of complete honesty, like this one, that break my heart. I used to hate these moments when we were younger. I didn't want Bella to be honest with me. All I wanted was for her to turn around and confess that she'd liked me for months. Instead, she'd reveal every bit of herself, holding nothing back, and every word would crush me.

"I know," she continues. "It's lame."

"It's not..."

"No, it's lame. You told me not to get my hopes up, and yet I continue to hope, and hope, and I can't stop. Jane, I've been dreaming of him again—"

"Bella—"

"No, listen. I know you think they're just dreams and that they mean nothing, but—"

"I never said that. I just asked you to be careful, Bella. You need to guard your heart sometimes. Keep it safe."

"That's not what hearts are for," she says, looking at me like I'm a child she needs to explain simple facts to.

"Hearts are for crushing? Breaking?"

"You need to live, Jane."

"Says the girl who lives in the past, and in her dreams."

"But I've also flown. I've felt. I've soared. I've danced."

"Oh, brother."

Bella frowns. "Shut up. I know I'm a pain in the ass, but if I don't take these little leaps of faith, and if I let go of my dreams, what do I have?"

"You have your life," I tell her. "You have everything. But you need to stop being careless with your feelings. So, you saw him again at a party. I know it's easy to believe that this means something, but it really doesn't, and you know this."

"It means everything. My hair, and... and, Jane. He's back. I don't know why you can't see that. When he came to Forks, you were the one who was telling me to open my eyes, realize it's him. It's Hat Guy. Why can't you... Forget it. I don't want to have this argument again."

She removes the turkey and cheese from the second half of her sandwich, and eats it without the bread. I immediately do the same with mine—something we always did back then. I can't believe that she still doesn't get it, even after I told her how I used to feel. I wasn't excited about Hat Guy appearing in Bella's English class senior year. I was terrified. I was jealous. I was panicking. When I pointed out that he looked like Hat Guy, it was only because I wanted to know what she was thinking. And I knew Bella. If I said anything she didn't want to hear, she'd stomp off and stop talking to me. I may be okay with that now, but my heart couldn't handle it then. I needed my days filled with her. It was almost as pathetic as the state Bella is in now.

Knowing exactly what it's like to want something as much as Bella wants Edward makes it more difficult to be the voice of reason. I should tell her right now that meeting Edward again at a party doesn't mean he's going to call her, or that they are going to end up together. But she knows this. She's learned the hard way that dreams don't come true overnight. And it kills me, it really kills me when she gets excited about running into him again, because she knows better. She lived through heartbreak once, and she's willing to go through it again. This is something I don't understand. I want to take away her phone and extract every memory she has of Rosalie's party. Edward Cullen is bad news. Bad news with a bright smile and great hair—even I will admit that. I'm not interested in what his intentions are. His mere presence in her life through the exchange of phone numbers at a party is bad enough. He has a girlfriend! He has a life in New York that doesn't include Bella. He obviously hasn't called her since the party. Any further interaction is a bad idea. Someone needs to tell her this, and that someone is me. I really have no one but myself to blame this time. Had I known the Cullens were going to be in Forks this weekend, I wouldn't have convinced Bella to visit her parents for her birthday. Nothing good can come out of Edward Cullen visiting Forks on Bella's birthday. It's another mess I'm going to have to clean up, and I just hope that this one won't leave Bella destroyed.

**Thanks so much for reading. You guys are the best.**


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